


For On This Day, You Lived

by anupalya



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Birthday Spankings, Birthdays, Cardassian traditions, F/M, Family, First Kiss, Fluff, Found Family, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, benign breaking and entering, mention of intoxication, mention of mania, no corporal punishment!, reference to The Wire, references to angst, slight reference to BDSM spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26013514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anupalya/pseuds/anupalya
Summary: Very little is known about Elim Garak’s personal life.  When a discussion about birthday traditions reveals him to be unsurprisingly recalcitrant about sharing his date of birth, Julian Bashir takes it upon himself to investigate.  His line of inquiry leads him through some rather comedic situations, unlikely sources of support, and monumental realizations.
Relationships: Jadzia Dax/Worf, Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Keiko O'Brien/Miles O'Brien
Comments: 22
Kudos: 76





	For On This Day, You Lived

**Author's Note:**

  * For [almaasi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/gifts).



> This is a (VERY belated) birthday present to my dear, dear friend [ almaasi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/almaasi/pseuds/almaasi). In addition to being a wonderful human and one of my closest friends in the world, they are an absolutely incredible author, and if by some CALAMITY you haven't heard of them or read their work, please do go have a look.
> 
> Elmie, I love you very much.
> 
> My deepest and heartiest thanks to my wonderful friends and betas, [ Syaunei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syaunei), [bongbingbong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bongbingbong/), and [ Concepta Decency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConceptaDecency/pseuds/ConceptaDecency), who are all ABSOLUTELY incredible and creative people that I am in awe of. Please do go look at their work!!

It began, as many things do, with a birthday party.

  


Walking into the Sisko residence was a bit like walking into a jungle, if the jungle were made of paper streamers of the most bizarre and psychedelic color combinations. It seemed that someone had taken inspiration from Jake Sisko’s wardrobe in their overzealous attempt at decorating for his birthday. Indeed, Julian found that Jake himself, in moving about the room to greet his guests, looked as though he had donned a camouflage to traipse through the streamers.

In one little clearing, which thankfully included a sofa as part of its terrain, the command crew had taken refuge. Bunched together, they sipped at their synthale and chatted merrily about the party, about how quickly young Jake Sisko had grown up, and how delicious the Creole cuisine was, courtesy of the elder Sisko.

Julian himself was perched on the arm of the couch, with one arm slung over its back, inches from where Miles was relaxed on the leftmost cushion. One of Julian's legs was tucked up under him, while the other leg was left to dangle freely and occasionally kick at the streamers or errant balloons. Cuddled up on Miles’s right was Keiko, who was chatting merrily with Jadzia, who had made herself quite comfortable on Worf’s lap. Standing before Julian, rocking back and forth, toe-to-heel and back again, Kira delicately sipped at her synthale and laughed heartily at Jadzia’s jokes. Odo was posed quietly by her side, letting out the occasional hum as he “sipped” at his conjured glass.

“Found you,” came a quiet voice in Julian’s ear.

Julian, nearly having upset his drink on himself, gave a wide smile. “Gar- _RAK_ , you sly thing! I thought you’d never make it!”

“My dear Doctor,” came the admonishing reply, as Garak made his way around the front to face the group - Kira and Odo shuffling sideways as far as they could manage to make room - “it’s a miracle I’m here at all, and even more still that I found you. _What_ can be the purpose of making Captain Sisko’s quarters such a, well…”

“Clusterfuck?” interjected Miles dryly. Keiko playfully slapped at his chest with the back of her hand, but joined the ensuing round of good-natured chuckles.

“Eloquent as always, Mr. O’Brien,” drawled Garak, eyes gleaming. “Really though, what utter _calamity_ has befallen the Sisko clan!”

“It’s a birthday tradition, Garak, streamers are often used in festive occasions on Earth! Although, er, maybe not _quite_ so many…” finished Julian, conceding the point. There really were a _lot_ of streamers.

“Well, Nog decided outright that decorating was _his_ job this year - I think he’s missed Jake terribly and wanted to make the most of his leave from the Academy, so it’s all rather sweet,” Jadzia grinned. “And Benjamin was only too happy to focus on the cooking, although he may regret that at cleanup.”

As if summoned, the aforementioned Siskos stumbled through the curtain of streamers into the little clearing, Jake laughingly protesting while pursued by a cackling Benjamin. Trailing from their limbs were a carnage of streamers, evidently the result of a wild chase.

“IIIIII’M GONNA GET YOU,” howled the captain, grinning from ear to ear.

“Noooooo,” protested Jake, barely managing the words through his laughter, “nooo, I’m too old!”

“Never!”

Finally pouncing upon him, Benjamin slung his son over one shoulder and spun him round and round and round, lightly swatting at his bottom while the assembled onlookers whooped and called.

At last, the birthday boy was plopped back onto the ground. Both men panting, the elder Sisko slung a jovial arm around the younger, and with a brief kiss to Jake’s temple, they both stumbled off again into the paper forest. Behind them, streamers fluttered out, hovering for a weightless second, and gently settled back down again.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but corporal punishment went out of fashion on Earth centuries ago, did it not?” wondered Garak, eyes still trained on the swaying streamers.

Julian cackled. “Oh _Garak,_ that was a birthday spanking! It’s not meant to hurt or punish. It’s a human tradition for good luck.”

Garak _hmmmed_ . “How very odd. I’ll never understand human cultures, I suppose. But I already knew that. These, erm, _spankings_ are given just on birthdays, or all special occasions?”

“Birthdays,” replied Jadzia - then, with a sly grin, “although, given the right, ah, _atmosphere_ , shall we say, a well-placed spanking can make the occasion pre-tty...special.”

Worf gave a fearsome grin.

Kira spat out her drink amongst raucous _oooohs_ from the rest of the bunch. Beside her, Odo rolled his eyes heavenward, possibly contemplating taking an early regenerative period.

“More to the point,” continued Julian, delicately wiping Kira's synthale from his face, “we humans tend to have a number of birthday traditions that vary around the world, culture to culture. I’m sure Miles and Keiko celebrated their birthdays differently than I did, growing up, and from the Siskos as well.”

Keiko nodded. “My cousins and I participated in the seven-five-three festival when we were at the right ages, to pray for health and long life.”

Miles chuckled softly. “Instead of spankings, I got head-bumps against the floor for good luck.”

“What about our nonhuman friends? What were your birthday celebrations like?” asked Keiko.

Kira smiled softly, with a touch of melancholy. “Even when things were at their most dire, my father always sang the blessing and danced with me.”

"That's beautiful, Nerys," murmured Keiko. 

Odo huffed out “I don’t _have_ a birthday,” to general protest, but refused to take the matter any further.

When prodded, even Worf grudgingly admitted, “I...developed a particular fondness for ice cream cake, when I was younger. My human parents indulged me.” He growled slightly at the ensuing _awwws._

Leaning her head against Worf’s forehead, Jadzia closed her eyes and sighed. “Trill birthdays have changed somewhat over eight lifetimes, but my favorites were the ones that involved a good water fight.”

“And you, Garak?” Julian prodded after Jadzia had explained exactly _what_ a water fight was and how it related to birthdays.

“And me, what?” Garak asked innocently.

“ _Garak!_ Come on now, you must have had birthdays!”

“Oh, must I?” A groan went around the group.

“No fair, Garak, we all shared,” protested Miles. Garak gave a wistful sigh.

“Mi-- the housekeeper did always celebrate with me,” he admitted.

“ _There_ we go. How did you celebrate? What did you do together?” coaxed Julian.

“Oh, now, Doctor, we Cardassians don’t go around blurting out our traditions for all to hear, now do we?” And even after a round of pleas, Garak wouldn’t budge on the subject.

“At least tell us when it is,” Keiko wheedled.

“And that, Mrs. O’Brien, you shan’t hear from me.” With that proclamation, Garak gave a decisive nod, made eye contact with Julian, and then nodded sharply once more before leaving to fetch a drink.

As the conversation flowed on around him, Julian wiggled a bit on the arm of the couch, thinking over the turn that line of inquiry had taken. That look Garak had given him...a flush crept up his neck, and he shivered in the heat of it.

Perhaps, he mused, it was time for an investigation of sorts.

  


Four days later, Julian was beginning to get a bit desperate. He was no closer than he had been the night of Jake’s party to discovering Garak’s birthday, and no amount of pacing and bemoaning the fact to Kukalaka brought him any closer to a solution. Mila would know, certainly, but contacting her would put them all in danger from multiple directions. He’d already contacted Ziyal, but she hadn’t had a clue. Although, she’d added with a twinkle before returning to her studies, she’d very happily consult on Cardassian birthday celebrations - what she remembered of her own, during the Occupation - once he’d figured it out.

Garak had given no indication that he was aware of Julian’s quest, and Julian himself had not wanted to alert him to it, so he didn’t mention it at all when they had met for lunch over the past couple days. Thankfully, their regular dynamic was easy for him to comfortably slip into, the banter carrying them both through a delightful time. _Truly delightful_ , thought Julian with a small, private smile, then blinked when he found himself flushing again at the thought of Garak’s impish laughter over the Replimat table. Shaking himself slightly with a frown, he reapplied himself to the task at hand.

Thoughts whirring, Julian absently spun on his desk chair while staring at the ceiling, around and around clockwise, then counterclockwise once he began to get dizzy. He was about to leave what had been a quiet shift, and normally he’d be taking this time to peruse a medical journal or his own private research, but his mind was far too occupied for that.

Dragging his heels against the floor to pause his motion, he stood up abruptly, then leaned against his desk until the headrush had passed.

“Well, there’s nothing for it,” he muttered to himself. “No point in searching around. The man was in the Obsidian Order, not like there will be any personal data about him floating about for public consumption.” Straightening up, he sighed. “No, this will require some, hmm, _spywork_ of my own.” He grinned a bit to himself at the thought. “Time to put those skills from the holosuite to work.”

  


_Well, that was a bust,_ thought Julian glumly as he stalked back out of Garak's quarters in a huff. No false panels in the walls, no hidden safes, no stored data of any kind but the most banal of Cardassian literature - and if it was code for more juicy information, well, even Julian's augmented mind could find no cypher. He'd even pulled up the mattress and checked under the bed.

Julian fought a losing battle against a secret smile as he recalled the _delicious_ scents he had discovered wafting up from various bottles in the bathroom, and squeezed his eyes shut tight with a quiver at the memories they had elicited -- Garak coming close enough whisper in his ear at Jake’s party, Julian comforting him with a hand over his shoulder during his implant withdrawal, the pair of them leaning forward over lunch to heatedly debate the dubious morals presented in their latest literary analysis…

Julian stopped walking abruptly and his eyes flew open to stare at the wall opposite Garak’s quarters. _Why_ did he keep getting distracted? He had a mission to complete, and that mission had not required sniffing at Garak’s cologne, for heaven’s sake! Some investigation he was conducting...not that the other aspects of the investigation had been particularly fruitful, anyway.

"Waste of perfectly good spy technique," he grumbled, although in reality, he'd fairly easily overridden the lock to enter Garak's quarters, having recently seen Garak punching in his code manually when the proximity detector had failed (he'd been far enough away at the time that no un-augmented human would have been able to see the code, and Garak had known nothing of his enhancements at that point). The rest had been careful use of latex gloves and putting things back where he'd found them. 

"Ahem."

_Bollocks._

Julian turned slowly to find Odo, arms crossed, looking rather stern.

"Uh-hmm, hey Odo!" he offered weakly.

"Did you know, _Doctor_ , that I do _occasionally_ browse through the live security feeds in my office?"

"Ah, no. No, in fact, I did not know that. How interesting." Julian gulped.

"Imagine my surprise when I saw you conducting a manual override on Mr. Garak's door, with no Mr. Garak in sight." He paused, as if waiting for the aforementioned Mr. Garak to materialize. "Now, I look after everyone on this station, _even Cardassian tailors._ So, Doctor Bashir, care to explain?" Odo gritted out.

 _Spy technique, here we go_ , thought Julian wildly.

"I'd just wondered where Garak was, is all. He wasn't answering my comms and I'd thought he'd fallen asleep, perhaps. And well, I'd uh, left something here the other night, but didn't find it so I suppose I'll have to find Garak the old-fashioned way and have _him_ give it back. Oh, wouldn't it be funny if it's not here at all, but he's been carrying it around, looking for _me_ to return it to? Huh, Odo? Wouldn't that be, uh…"

Odo slightly raised the top of his eye socket on one side, mimicking an arched brow.

"It, ah, _wouldn't_ be funny...?" Julian tentatively tried.

Odo slowly shook his head.

"Right then" Julian squawked. "I'll just be getting on. Have a nice day, Odo, sorry to have bothered you!"

"And don't do it again!" Odo called after his retreating form. "Chief Medical Officer or not, I can have you in the brig overnight!"

  


"Ah, Major Kira...just who I was hoping to see." Julian pulled a chair from a nearby Replimat table and straddled it. The Major in question, who had been skimming through a PADD while sipping raktajino up until a moment ago, set her mug down and pursed her lips.

"Is this going to be about why Odo caught you breaking into Garak's quarters last night, armed only with a flimsy excuse and a guilty conscience?" she deadpanned.

"...Sort of."

"Go on, then. My shift starts in ten minutes. And you’re lucky he’s giving you the benefit of the doubt, you know. The only reason he doesn’t suspect you of being a Changeling again is because generally, Changelings are better liars."

Julian shuddered at the reminder. "Alright, alright, not my finest moment, I know. I was just trying to…" he sighed. "You remember at Jake's party, how Garak wouldn't tell us his birthday?"

Kira squinted, her ridged nose wrinkling. "You...You broke into Garak's quarters, not knowing what booby traps that paranoid old not-spy may have set, to look for clues about his _birthday?_ Julian, of all the silly-"

"I know, all right?" Julian grumped. "And it was all for naught, anyway. There was _nothing_." 

"Well, poor you, but why in the Names of the Prophets are you telling me all this?"

"Well," Julian shifted a bit, "you knew him during the Occupation, didn't you? When you were, um…"

"Yes, Julian, when I was forced into slave labor on a Cardassian space station orbiting my occupied home planet, all the while secretly carrying out the work of my resistance cell, I made sure to find out Garak's birthday," Kira stated flatly. She sighed. " _Really,_ Julian."

"Right," he winced, "sorry."

She shook her head in disbelief. "Why do you even want to know so badly?"

"Well, I'd...I'd wanted to, um, maybethrowhimasurpriseparty?"

"A surprise p- like what, you don't tell him he's going to have a party and suddenly there he is? People on Earth do that?"

He snapped his fingers. "Exactly! Usually involves hiding in a dark room and jumping out and yelling "surprise" and suddenly turning the lights on and all that."

"....Are you sure that's a good idea? Scaring an ex-member of the Obsidian Order halfway to a heart attack for his birthday?"

"Well, I am a doctor, after all." Julian gave her what he hoped was a winning smile.

"You have spinach in your teeth."

"Oh, damn!" Julian wiggled his tongue around, trying to dislodge the errant leaf. "Fank 'oo."

"Open?" He did. "Better now."

He slumped against the spine of his chair, head buried in his arms. "I don't know what to doo-hoo-oooo…" He peeked up at her with one eye.

Kira signed and began gathering up her things. "Look, Julian," she said between the last gulps of raktajino, "if you're really so serious about this, I don't think Garak will appreciate being ambushed by a horde of people. He's barely gotten comfortable with the rest of us individually, let alone getting hit with us all at once. If you want to celebrate his birthday, and if you _insist_ on making it a surprise, how about something, um...quieter? And for the Prophets' sake, don't go snooping in his things again! We'll all be worse off if our CMO gets taken out of commission by a poisoned dart!" With a chuckle that belied her stern words, she gave a comforting clap to his shoulder and stalked off.

Julian stared out over the replimat, unseeing. Quieter? Yes, that would be nicer, wouldn't it? No massive bunches of people to overwhelm them both, no loud noises and charging through forests of streamers. Just...Just the two of them, having a lovely, quiet time together. Like their lunches, really, but more...special. More... _intimate._

He sat up suddenly, eyes wild. _Intimate!_ Did he want that? _Could_ he? Was that what this all meant? _Oh my_ ...Thinking back on it, he certainly possessed a deep empathy for his friend...his dear friend, of whom he had been so wary at first, but still so thrilled under that dangerous attention….even before he'd helped him through his withdrawal from his wire, and then _after…_ a now-familiar shiver crept up his spine. How Garak had whispered in his ear, how fiercely they debated over lunch, bodies leaning together, the bottles of scent he had discovered in the bathroom and his _reaction_ to them, physical and emotional...

Oh dear. 

Julian knew he loved his friends deeply, _very_ deeply. Loved them with everything, really, _liked_ them even more. And Garak was...it was different, wasn't it? Not at all _deeper_ or more profound than his dear friendships with Miles, Keiko, Kira...certainly not more important, but. Something different? Something... _else_ . Something that was in its own unique way… _intimate._

"I - I think-- I’m in love with him?" he whispered, the possibility hitting him with the subtlety of the wormhole just outside. Julian took a shaky inhale, then let out a sharp "hah!" Then, hastily, "no no, not you," to a group of passing Klingons.

"Doctor?" chirruped his combadge.

"Hm? Ah yes, what is it, JabarAAA I'M LATE, AREN'T I?"

  


"It's no use," he grumbled two days later. 

Julian and Miles were at Quark's, moping. Well, Julian was moping, while Miles looked on with barely concealed amusement and sympathy.

"I don't know what I was thinking, taking this on. I'm _doomed_ . How the hell am I supposed to figure out his birthday when there is no personal record of his existence _anywhere_?"

Lips turned up in a wry smile, Miles paused before his next sip of synthale. "Why is this so important to you?" 

Julian turned to level a glare at his friend, heart beating wildly. "And why shouldn't it be? Why can't I just want to take care of my friend, hmm? Why can't I want to celebrate my friend's birthday without it becoming something else?"

"Oh, you absolutely can," drawled Miles, "except you're the one who got defensive about the _something else._ "

"Well, that's--I--you--" Julian sputtered weakly, then slumped forward over his drink. He privately cursed his earlier revelation for having put him so on edge, even though he knew he could never regret it. "It really _is_ no use, is it?"

Miles hmmed noncommittally. "Did I ever tell you how I met Keiko?"

Still staring down at his mug, Julian shook his head.

"It was the early days of the Enterprise-D...Picard had just been made captain of it, we were all feeling each other out a bit, I was Chief Petty Officer at the time. Anyway, I bumped into her outside the botany lab just as she was getting off of work, and Commander Data -- you’ve met him, right? -- he introduced us properly." A small, fond smile rose as Miles reminisced, his cheeks and ears pinking softly. "She had a smudge of dirt across her cheek, but I didn't say anything about it, just carried on talking as we both made our way to Ten-Forward, since we had both already been planning to go separately. I didn't know how to tell her, poor Keiko, and I honestly thought it was adorable, although it would have been inappropriate of me to say at the time, of course. She caught a reflection of herself in some shiny surface on our way, though. Chewed me out real nice for letting her walk about with mud on her face! But I apologized and asked if I could make it up to her during dinner, if she was okay with eating with me. And the rest is history, you know?"

Julian raised his head and turned a confused eye towards his friend. "But...why did she accept? She didn't know you, and she was mad at you, wasn't she?"

"Because," came Keiko's voice from behind them, "it was my birthday, I didn't know many people on the Enterprise, and I decided I might as well spend my birthday dinner with the cute officer who thought I was worth getting to know even with mud on my face."

"Oh no, Keiko, have we made it so late that you've come to look for him?" Julian began apologetically.

"Oh, not at all! I'm just picking up a commissioned piece from Garak and saw you two here, figured we'd walk home together." She smoothed the uniform over her husband's shoulders, Miles visibly brightening under the ministrations. Julian, looking on, fought against a pang of jealousy beneath his fondness at their easy intimacy. He supposed the yearning had now been brought to consciousness by his new understanding of his own desires. 

"It _is_ getting late though," admitted Miles as he stood and stretched. "You'll be alright, Julian? Want to come for dinner?"

"Oh, I'll be alright," Julian smiled warmly at them both, "I'll just finish up here and give it an early night, thank you."

"If you're sure," said Keiko, "then...good luck, Julian." And with a knowing wink, she turned and the pair of them headed off.

Julian watched them until they disappeared 'round the bend, then turned back to his drink, intending to finish up and make a glum night of it, and found himself face-to-very-close-face with Quark.

"GAH-oh!" he yelped, clutching at his heart. Julian's chest heaved under his hands as he sucked air back in.

"Sorry," said Quark, not looking at all sorry.

"I suppose you were listening in this whole time," Julian muttered, returning to his drink.

"But of course!" Quark straightened up from where he'd been leaning on the bar, and spread his arms wide, grinning. "Always on the lookout for opportunity."

"And what _opportunity_ did you find in my suffering, Oh Great Acquirer?" 

Quark sobered. "What's it worth to you?"

Julian snorted, "oh _please,_ like you'd know anything that would help me."

Quark said nothing, just leveled him with a steady gaze.

"Wha-- Quark, _do_ you know something??!"

Quark leaned forward again. "What...is..it...worth...to...you?"

Julian leaned forward too, so they were now nose-to-nose. "Name your price."

"Five strips of latinum."

"Two."

"Three."

"Done."

Quark straightened up again, all smiles. " _Wellll,_ glad to do business with you!"

"Quark…"

"I'm getting to it, hold yer hajeeva grubs!" Coming around the side of the bar, Quark perched on a stool beside Julian, who turned to face him.

"All right. Back during the Occupation, I had my bar here, you know? And Garak usually stayed away, unless he was pressured by the Guls to join them for a round. Except…" here he looked around conspiratorially and dropped his voice even lower, "there was one night, it was practically _deserted_ , was about to pack up, see, and then who but _Garak_ comes bounding in, this manic cheerfulness about him, and orders an entire bottle of my best kanar! Well, five glasses in, he's spouting all kinds of gibberish, couldn't make out most of it, poor guy. But _eventually,_ after some ve-ry tricky wordsmithing, I managed to get it out of him."

"Quark!" Julian was appalled. "Do you mean to tell me you plied Garak for information while he was _drunk off his arse_??"

"I know, what an opportunity! The man never let anything slip about himself otherwise, you can't blame me for seizing the moment!"

"Well, I'm not surprised," said Julian severely. "But blame you, I certainly do."

Quark waved a hand. "I'll take it. Anyway, turns out he was in there drinking himself to unconsciousness over...get ready for it...his _birthday."_

The manic happiness...Oh _Garak_ , the emotional pain he must have been in that day for his wire to have kicked into such high gear… lonely, certainly, missing Mila, and if it was towards the end of the Occupation, even more guilt than usual...and he wouldn't have been used to having his wire on for days at a time so his tolerance...oh no.

Quark was still talking. "I doubt he'd remember telling me at all, you know. Probably has no clue I know when his birthday is. I had to help him back to his quarters that night, purely out of the goodness of my heart, and he very nearly threw up half that expensive kanar _twice_ on the way there. And he's never done that since, which is just as well because Starfleet took Terok Nor soon after and turned it into DS9 and all of _you_ showed up, and...well."

A strange, beautiful ache lodged in Julian's heart at the thought that the presence of the crew made Garak's lonely birthdays a bit easier to bear, even if they didn't celebrate together. Oh, _Garak_.

Julian truly _did_ love him, and fiercely.

"When is it?" he found the question spilling from his mouth without permission, heart still so full of empathy that he could barely think.

"Get me the latinum, and I'll tell you."

"QUARK!"

  


Julian rocked back on his heels from where he was crouched on the floor. For an extra strip of latinum, Quark had happily provided Odo with a distraction to keep him from catching Julian in the act of breaking into Garak's quarters again. Gazing at the spread before him, Julian was satisfied that it had been well worth it.

He'd set a thick, woolly blanket, soft and fluffy, upon the floor, a woven basket to the side, and its contents - pastries, savory dishes, even a soup, all specified by Ziyal as traditional birthday fare - artfully arranged. He hadn't wanted to risk a fire by placing candles on wool, but he'd looked in a curio shop on the Promenade and found some very cunning little false candles that worked as tiny holo emitters, providing beautifully realistic and warm flickers of flame. And glinting, almost lifelike against the flame, were two pictures in frames, propped up by the basket. One was a hand-drawing of Mila, done from his own memory. The other was a group photo of the crew, gathered on a merry night at Quark's.

It was all ready.

He hummed a bit, rocking slightly in rhythm in an effort to let some of the nervous energy out. The _other_ thing Ziyal had told him…

The hiss of the doors and the sudden light falling in from the hallway had him looking up. Garak strode in, silhouetted against the brighter light, and halted abruptly. Julian, sitting in the candlelit quarters, was nearly blinded by the dark impression Garak's form made against the light.

Garak still hadn't moved by the time Julian's eyes adjusted enough to see his expression. His eyes shone brightly and were thirstily drinking in the sight before him, the way one hopelessly and desperately drinks in the mirage of water in a scorched wasteland. His gaze darted about, landing first on Julian, then the candles, then the food, then Julian again, then the pictures, then the basket, the food again, the pictures again, Julian again. As if in a trance, he silently crept forward as if hardly daring to believe the sight before his eyes, until he arrived at the blanket and sank down to his knees, opposite Julian. His eyes had locked onto the doctor at some point, and he had yet to look away.

Julian inhaled, silently blessed Ziyal for what he was about to do, and began speaking in a low, deliberate tone:

"On this day, the ancestors smile, for their line continues on.

And this moment our descendents will bless year by year, for on this day, you lived.

And we now gather and renew our pledge to you, this our promise to honor and love."

Garak, who had gasped when Julian had begun to speak, now sat, tears illuminated by candlelight silently making their way down the crevasses of his face. He closed his eyes briefly, tears gathering in his eyelashes and flickering golden, took a breath, and began his answer in a shaking voice.

"On this day I renew my pledge to you, that you all may hear. 

I will remain loyal and vow my love. 

I will walk with pride and honor our line, this day and all days."

By the final words, his voice had steadied and grown strong. He looked down at the pictures of his family, more vulnerability to his expression than Julian had ever seen, then back up to his friend.

They held each other's gaze for a moment, allowing themselves to fully feel the rawness of the moment. Then, by silent mutual agreement, they began to eat.

Between bites of a rather lovely flakey pastry stuffed with nuts and some kind of sweet leaves, Garak, eyes flickering shyly up to Julian, cleared his throat. 

"Wherever did you get this sketch of Mila, Doctor? It's an excellent likeness, and I'm sure neither she nor I would have commissioned it."

Julian smiled. "I drew it. Benefits of an augmented memory, I suppose."

"You _drew -_ ??" Garak shook his head. "My dear doctor, perhaps it's time I learn to stop underestimating you. After all," he gestured around at the picnic spread, " _how_ you managed to put together a traditional birthday feast, complete with the family and ancestral pictures, is far beyond me. And the fact that you knew it was my birthday at _all_ , well! How did you even find that out?"

"Ah...Hmm. Well…" Julian hedged, "do you remember a night during the Occupation when you got very, ah….drunk?"

"Drunk? During the Occupation? I--oh." Here Garak gulped and looked away. "I might have known Quark would have taken the opportunity to pry something out of me. I," he closed his eyes, "I am most embarrassed."

"Don't be!" Julian hastily replied. "Your, um, your implant….if it was during the Occupation, you wouldn't have been used to it running at full strength at all times yet, so if you were hit with it for an entire day while experiencing extreme emotional distress, well….Quark said you had a kind of manic cheeriness to you. I suspect your judgement was already heavily impaired by the time you arrived at the bar."

Garak swept a hand across his face. "Yes, well...I'll have to remember to shoot that bartender, or else bully him into silence somehow."

"Don't be too mad at him, E-Elim.” Garak’s eyes widened and darted to meet Julian’s at the shy use of his given name. “He only told me because he knew I was desperate to find out your birthday. I'd been annoying half the station about it for nearly a week by the time he got to me."

"And there's another thing, isn't it? I had no idea you were running around and apparently telling all our friends about your plans for me! My dear doctor, how _sneaky_ you've become! I must say, it's rather attractive."

Julian blushed. "Aw, Garak, you can't say you had _no_ idea. You, of all people! I mean, of course I was trying to keep it secret from you, but look how well that usually turns out. No, I can't believe it!"

"Oh, my dear, I am being perfectly serious." Garak's eyes were shining again, with mischief rather than tears.

By this point, in their shuffling and passing dishes to each other and getting better looks at the pictures, they'd made their way around the picnic spread and were now sitting side-by-side rather than opposite each other. Suddenly aware of this new proximity, Julian felt the tops of his ears burn red, and he looked down.

"You're the one who challenged me, though. At the party," he murmured, "you said 'you shan't hear it from me' and then gave me such a _look_."

"Hmmm," Garak looked away slightly, back at the picture of Mila, "yes, well. I confess I hadn't much hope that you'd pick up on it.

It was as Julian had suspected. Garak _had_ wanted someone to know his birthday and celebrate with him. He could have easily avoided saying even as little as he had at the party, otherwise. He closed his eyes briefly, and clung tight to his hope that Ziyal had been right.

"And I suppose the fact that you'd challenged me to an Impossible Task had nothing to do with it as well?" 

"You--" Garak's head snapped back towards Julian. "You know what that means?"

"I've learned." Julian took a deep breath and licked his lips, beginning his recitation. “The Impossible Task. One of rarer methods of initiation of a formal courtship with intention to marry between Cardassians, symbolic of the lengths one would go to for the other. While completion of the task is not necessary to fully accept the courtship, a genuine attempt must be made.”

Garak pursed his lips, glaring at a spot above Julian’s left shoulder, although he made no move to decrease their proximity. “Tora Ziyal is an excellent teacher. And I suppose she’s responsible for you _learning_ about the rest of this?” He gestured irritably at the feast and pictures.

“Don’t be angry,” Julian begged softly. "Just, Elim--Elim, _do_ tell me--did you truly mean to initiate a courtship with me so very strongly?"

Closing his eyes, Garak bowed his head. “My dear Doctor, in all our time together, you have learned intimately that I wield lies as a weapon. And yet tonight, you have managed to pierce through every last bit of armor I have, and herein lies the softer truth, the dragon’s vulnerable underbelly, to borrow a Terran phrase.” 

He shook his head once, then met Julian’s eyes steadily. "I am not angry at you, or dear Ziyal. I am not angry at anyone but myself. I had believed myself beyond the occasional indulgence in fantasy by this point, and yet I knew even if you did understand that I had issued a challenge, you would likely never learn of its real significance. I wanted it so much that I had to pretend, even to myself, that I didn't care at all, and so I flippantly threw out an Impossible Task when half a chance presented itself because I _needed_ it to be a mere half-thought fantasy. I allowed myself to spin a lie, the worst kind, because it was truer than anything else I had done in a long time.

“And yet, here you are,” he chuckled softly. “How can I stay angry at myself, when my repulsive moment of weakness brought me exactly what I wanted, but never dreamed could be real? You ask me, did I truly mean to initiate a courtship?” Garak's gaze became something hungry, and he leaned closer. "My dear Julian, what do _you_ think?"

"I think," Julian breathed, enchanted, "I think it's time you had your birthday present." 

Gently, he edged forward, and when Garak made no move to stop him, he came up on his knees and straddled him, hands first clutching his shoulders for balance, then hesitantly trailing up his neck ridges, startling when that elicited a rough purr, then caressing his jaw and the back of his head.

"Happy birthday, Elim," Julian whispered, placing a soft, soft kiss on one eyelid, then the other, then just to the right of his nose, then down to his jaw. Throughout this, Garak sat perfectly still, as if daring to move would cause Julian to be snatched away. Thumbing gently against Garak’s temple, hoping to soothe, Julian pulled back slightly and _looked_.

Eyes locked once more, then eyelids slowly closed as both finally leaned over the precipice into their first sweet, longing kiss. Time suspended for a perfect, quiet moment, a gentle pressure that held such ecstatic joy.

They pulled back for a moment, hot breath hitting in puffs, then dove back in with more vigor, slowly building in intensity, hands clutching, trailing up and down backs, Julian leaving Garak's delicious mouth to nibble down his neck ridges. Julian growled with _triumph_ as he felt Garak finally relax and submit fully to his attentions, to let go of his reservations and self-loathing and just _feel_.

"Julian...My _dear.._.I..."

“Yes? Yes--hmmm--what?”

“I-- OH,”

“What is--” another nibble, “what is it?”

“I...I love you.”

Pulling back up, Julian gave a radiant smile, seeing himself reflected in Garak’s eyes in the flickering light.

"Do you mean it? Elim, please don't start lying again, not now."

"My dear, if you only believe one thing I say for the rest of our lives, let it be this."

The joy that coursed through Julian in that moment was almost completely indescribable using any sensible words. It was as if he was given a temporary reprieve from a long life of carrying boulders on his back, and he clutched at Garak's shoulders for fear of floating up to the ceiling in his newfound lightness. What blessed relief!

"I love you," he laughed. "Oh Elim, _darling_ , I love you so much."

A while later, after quite a bit more kissing, Garak paused for a moment in his ministrations.

"Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

“When you came to my quarters tonight, you weren’t entirely sure you had read the situation correctly, were you?”

Julian blinked. “Well, not exactly, no.”

"If I had rejected your advances, what would you have done about my birthday present?"

"Oh," Julian flushed deeply, "there's a bottle of kanar in the basket with a ribbon on it. Would have given it to you instead and gotten the hell out of here. Why," he turned playful, "disappointed? Or glad," a kiss, "with what," another kiss, "you got?"

Garak gave a wicked smile. "My dear Doctor, I don't see why I shan't have both."

  


"DOCTOR!"

Julian, having just exited Garak's quarters, jumped and clutched his hands behind his back.

"Breaking and entering again, are we?"

"Now Odo, I know it looks bad, but I really _did_ leave something here last night, and Garak knows I came back for it!"

"Indeed? And what exactly is it you came back for?"

Shyly, Julian drew his hands from behind his back and dangled a pair of his regulation briefs from his fingertips.

"Wh--you--I!" Odo spluttered.

"Oh, what can I say, Constable?" shrugged Julian with a bashful smile. "We were celebrating."

  


THE END

**Author's Note:**

> [Link to reblog on tumblr! ](https://anupalya.tumblr.com/post/626996510662492160/for-on-this-day-you-lived)


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